Bayushki Bayu, Hush a bye
by MLaw
Summary: While on a mission, a drugged Kuryakin inadvertently gives Napoleon a rare glimpse into a past that he's hidden for years, revealing a secret haunting him since he was a child. Strangely prompted by a joke e-mail that a friend sent. # 6 Solo-Series


**"Bayushki bayu, Hush a bye."**

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A pair of burly Thrush gorillas, the kind with their knuckles barely dragging on the ground, shoved him violently through the door into a dimly lit brick-walled basement and not being able to see the step down, he fell forward to his hands and knees.

"There, go join your buddy!" they grunted." We'll be back for you later so enjoy his company while you can...that's if he's all there?"

They laughed seeming to think that statement was funny then called out _Merry Christmas. _"It's going to be your last."They continued cackling as they slammed the door closed and locked it.

"_All there?" _That could mean a lot of things, he wondered. they slammed the door closed and locked.

Napoleon Solo picked himself up from the filthy floor, dusting off his already ruined clothes for all the good it was worth. It was just force of habit, keeping one's clothing tidy even under the most dire of circumstances. He absentmindedly ran his hands across his hair, doing it automatically as he waited a moment while his eyes adjusted to the shadows, then headed over to the figure huddled up in the corner.

The room was freezing and he could see his breath as he spoke his partner's name. "Illya?"

There was a moment of silence, then came a response but the voice sounded strange.

"Last time I looked it was mmme, but then I have nnnot looked into a mmmirror lately," Illya stuttered from the cold as as he lay curled up in the corner, shivering violently. He suddenly and uncharacteristically laughed, no _giggled_. "You look terrible Nappy. I think you wwwill be in trouble for ruining another suit?"

"Oh oh?" From that response, Napoleon knew they'd given him something. "Illya what did they do to you?"

"Meeee? I dunno. A needle, actually a cccouple. They huuurt. _Everything_ hurts."

Napoleon supposed that being doped up might actually have been for the better, since the Russian looked as though he'd been worked over pretty bad.

He removed his jacket, wrapping around Illya's shoulders. "Listen to me, what did they ask you? Do they know about the you-know-what?

"Ask me what about a what you know...you know what?"

"The microfilm, "Solo whispered.

"Well you know wwwhat... if you ask me, why is it that if you tell someone there is a _billion_ stars in the universe, they will believe you but if you tell them there is wet paint. Noooo, they do not trust you and haaaaave to touch? Hmm?"

"Oh boy? Illya I need you to focus, what did they tell you?" Napoleon rubbed his hands together trying to warm them.

"Tell me... tell me why did Kamikaze pilots wear helmets? And why is there no ham in hamburger or pine in pineapple. English is such a _strange_ language." he scratched his head. ". "And who was it that had the _terrible_ idea to put an _S _in the word _lisp?_ And why is phonetics not spelled the way it sounds?"

"Illya, I know you're really out of whack right now, but can we talk about these things later? I need to know about the microfilm?"

"Why do you say things are out of _whack? _And if they are working, why is it not in whack or whacking? What is a whack anyway?Does it not mean to strike someone or something?"

Napoleon ran his fingers through his hair again, this time out of frustration. "Listen to me, you have to pull yourself together?"

When Illya didn't respond, he grabbed him by the shoulders shaking him to try get him to pay attention.

"Stoooop, do not do that. It huurts. You are _hurting _me!"" Illya whined rubbing his shoulder, complaining like a child as he seemed to be getting goofier.

"Okay, fine, you just sit there for now." Napoleon then directed his own attention to the boarded up basement window. "Hmm, it looks big enough to get through, now if there aren't any bars behind that wood, then we can get out of here."

"Have you ever wondered why your Superman can stop bullets with his chest, but the ducks when a pistol is thrown at him?" Illya continued babbling. "Why did Kamikaze pilots wear helmets? And how do dead bugs get into enclosed light fixtures? If man evolved from _apes, _then _why _are there still aaaaaapes?"

Napoleon smiled for a second at that last statement. "Well the ones that put us here might not have evolved quite that far yet."

Then he just shook his head at the rest of his partner's ramblings while he pried the board free, keeping his fingers mentally crossed. Surprisingly enough, there were no bars and there wasn't a even a pane of glass.

"You gotta be kidding me?" Napoleon said aloud as he shook his head, amazed at the stupidity of their captors. He turned, looking again at his partner, realizing Illya could have escaped in a heart beat if he hadn't been crazy as a loon on what ever they'd given him.

"Come on buddy boy, we're getting out of here."

Illya began to whimper, pushing himself deeper into the corner; his demeanor suddenly changing.

"Nyet...nooo, afraid." he whispered. "Nyet. _Oni_ naidut nas__they_ will find us. My dolzhny molchat' poka Babushka vosvrashchaet-sya."

Surprised that he had switched to Russian; he asked his partner who he was talking about. "Who's they, and whose Babushka, yours? Why do we have to wait for her?"

"Shhhush" Illya put his fingers to his lips. " Katiya ne plach' ya znayu, chto vy golodny."

"There's no Katiya, and no one's crying."

Napoleon listened as Illya began to hum, then started rocking as if he were holding something.

"Bayushki bayu...bayushki bayu, he kept repeating the beginnings of a lullaby, singing it softly, then continued whispering in Russian. "We must stay here in the attic until Baba returns with food, then we will eat and be alright. I know it hurts, I am hungry too. We must stay quiet so the Germans do not hear us?"

"Snap out of it!" Napoleon hissed in English, reluctantly slapping his partner across the face. But that only succeeded in making the man moan, then sob.

"Come on please snap out of tovarisch?"

"Tovarisch? Ty moy tovarisch?"

"Da, ya tvoi tovarisch...moy drug." Napoleon told him he was his friend.

"Vy znaete, gde moya Babushka poshla?" Illya's voice was almost childlike.

"No I don't know...yes I do. She's waiting for us, yeah your grandmother's waiting for me to bring you to her."

"We cannot leave Katiya?" Illya said in shock, still speaking in Russian. "I will not leave her."

"Illya who is Katiya? Napoleon asked in Russian.

"My baby sister." Illya answered, " You talk funny?"

Napoleon shook his head, the Russian with his head screwed up on drugs and he still somehow managed to insult his accent.

"Okay fine, we'll bring Katiya too, but we have to hurry...the ugh, Nazi's will be coming back."

Suddenly Illya changed his train of thought, now speaking again to this imaginary sister. "I will be back Katiya, I will find us food and try to find Babushka. You must be quiet, no matter what you hear. I will be back, I promise." He was obviously reliving this scenario.

He watched his partner pick up the invisible Katiya in his arms as if he were hugging her good bye, asking her please not to cry.

"Vy dolzhny byt' spokoiny moya sestra ne plach', pozhaluista?"

It tore at Napoleon's heart, realizing he was witnessing part of the past that Illya had so fiercely guarded all these years. He grabbed hold of his friend's arm, pulling him through the window then wrapping his arm around his shoulders, guiding him along as one would a child. It was snowing hard and the accumulation on the ground crunched beneath their feet as they moved quickly away from the building.

Then when they were far enough from the compound, hidden among the trees Solo looked at his watch, noting that it was just past midnight as he pulled the stem out on it, then depressed it immediately, setting off the explosives he had managed to plant before he had been discovered.

As the house went up in flames, Illya suddenly buried his face like a child into the protection of Napoleon's chest. He was crying, calling Katiya's name softy. And repeating the phrase, "mne zhal'_I'm sorry, over and over again." I am alone," he whimpered, "they are all gone."

Napoleon now knew some of the truth of his partner's terrible past. His grandmother had left them in search of food and never came back, then somehow his sister died in a fire, he guessed trapped in the attic of their home. He could only imagine what happened to the rest of his family.

Illya shook as he was held close by his partner, and was rocked for comfort while he hallucinated, still reliving his terrible nightmare. Napoleon decided to wait for a bit perhaps until the effects of the drugs had dissipated before trying to move his Russian friend.

"It's okay tovarisch," he whispered gently, stroking Illya's hair. "I'm here...you're not alone. You'll never be alone. Bayushki bayu moy drug, bayushki bayu." He repeated the words, trying to soothe him.

"This was a hell of a Christmas present," Napoleon thought to himself. But then he realized it really was just that, as he'd received the sort of gift that you couldn't wrap in a package with a big bow on it. His friend and he were alive, and that was the best gift of all.

He looked up at the night sky, past the light of the flames that were still going strong and seeing a star in the East, shining brighter than the others.

"S Rozhdestvom Khristovym, moĭ drug." Napoleon whispered.

A few minutes later Illya finally spoke. "I am alright now my friend." Even though he wasn't. He was embarrassed that he'd let his feelings show so blantantly, and now Napoleon knew one of his darkest secrets.

"I don't think so, " Napoleon said." Your sister, you loved her very much didn't you...I'm sorry about what happened to her."

"No it is I am who is sorry, that was very personal and..." he hesitated trying to find the words as he did not want to insult his partner. " I do not want pity, it is my trouble to deal with."

"Hey partner, not pity...never pity. I know I can't fully understand how you feel, but I can share in your grief. I know what it's like to lose someone you love."

Illya looked up, his blue eyes looking clearer as he stared into his friend's eyes. "You know what the word _dusha_ means, do you not?"

"It means _soul_ doesn't it?"

"Yes it does, " He answered but gave no reason for his question."Merry Christmas Napoleon, and thank you," Illya then said as he remained there wrapped in his friends arms, safe and no longer feeling alone as he realized Napoleon now shared a part of his soul, and that now somehow felt very right.

.

Finis


End file.
